He Found Her In Pieces
by BreatheOutPoetry
Summary: Takes place after I Want To Believe. Scully is found in a pool of her own blood in a hotel room in PA by the Lone Gunman. Why couldn't she call Mulder for help? MSR. Lone Gunman. William. (Not my characters, not my photo)
1. Chapter 1

**He Found Her in Pieces (Chp. 1)**

 **Although, I have been a lover of fanfic since I was a teenager, I am more comfortable writing Star Trek: TNG/GH fanfiction. This fic is dark, but if you stay with it, I think (hope you'll like it). It is not a songfic but if you listen to Adele's "Hello" or "Love in the Dark," it won't hurt. I have all but the last chapter or two finished, so hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon.**

 **Disclaimer: These characters and allusions to episodes/movies don't belong to me.**

 **It takes place a few months after I Want to Believe. I'd read a lot about Mulder's depression and it being an issue for them. I wanted to explore what Scully's depression/PTSD (her pain) might look like. Please let me know what you think. (Also, my other fics are under the username BeautifulInversion. I got locked out of that account somehow.)  
**

* * *

Mulder stepped into the white house that they share. _Shared_ _?_ There was a blanket on the couch still curving to fit her body where she'd stood up early one morning to get ready to go to the hospital and it had fallen - no longer secure without her there. _Yeah_. The house was empty without her and yet, there were still pieces of her everywhere. Including the cup of tea, with the tag still hanging over the side, a sip or two full. _Lady Grey_. She never removed the tea bag after it steeped. He'd never been sure if it was because she liked the tea strong or by the time the liquid had cooled enough for her to swallow, her mind was elsewhere. He'd stared at the mug after she left that morning, stared at the last thing she'd allowed to touch her lips in an intimate way before she left. Even though she'd packed her bag for the conference she would be attending after work that day, to be followed by a week of consulting on a stem cell treatment case in Pennsylvania, Mulder had known she wouldn't be back.

Her mind had been elsewhere, not just while sipping on a warm-ish cup of tea, but for some time now. He dropped his duffle bag at his feet. Had he hoped his own trip to DC was long enough that she'd be back by the time he returned, if only to pack up some more of her things? Had she come and when she found him unavailable to her, found no reason to stay? Mulder sat down on the hardwood floor next to his bag, leaning against the door that they had gone in and out of so many times, only this time she stepped out of it once too many.

 _Scully_. He'd once told her that she was his touchstone, but they wandered so far from each other in this house the last few months, disagreed without speaking any words. She wouldn't open up to him. She kept everything bottled so tightly inside. He thought they were past that. _I'm fine._ How long hadn't she been fine?

He'd thought about it after leaving Skinner's office - thought about her the whole drive home. This was the second time since they'd left the bureau that the FBI had come to him for help. The first time Scully had brought the message, She'd worried about his isolation. She'd soon regretted leading him back to the darkness. _His booking agent_. That's what he'd called her. Maybe she had been pleading with him softly, as loudly as Scully could. Maybe she wasn't afraid of the darkness that was coming back into their lives. Maybe she was scared of the darkness that had been trapped inside of her so long. Maybe he'd known all along that she wouldn't be able to run from it forever. That running with him for all those years never meant that she was leaving behind that which had grabbed on so tightly to her organs, her lungs, her mind - the dark things. Maybe she'd hoped once settled in their house she could let float underneath the serene pool of being still in one place for more than a week. When she'd talked about the darkness that followed them, he'd always heard _followed him_. While she was treading the thick shadows alone, had the darkness caught up with _her_?

Christian, the young boy who'd been her patient had recovered significantly and was released from the hospital six weeks after his final stem cell treatment. Not giving up had been right the decision. Not for him, but for the boy she'd been fighting so hard to save while he was off chasing down monsters. Then again, it had been Scully that had charged into the darkness to save him as well. Was that enough for her?

It hadn't been long after Christian was discharged that she'd come home late one night and asked if he'd ever wanted to find out more about their son. _William_. Was he okay? Did they make the right decision? They were settled now. They were out of the FBI. Couldn't they at least meet with him? She would not meet his eyes as she asked him, throughout the entire conversation she looked down into her tea. He could get into the mind of the darkest psychopath, estimate the next move of the most corrupt serial killer, but he'd missed the darkness bubbling inside his partner.

Hurt by her willingness to walk away if he kept freelancing for the bureau, he'd taken one more case after that night. The night when he'd responded to her the tremble in her questions. Shaking up their son's life now would do more harm than good. He had parents. He had a life. He thought she would be gone when he got back to their home in Virginia because he'd gone one more time when Skinner's office called, one more time he chose the darkness that she was trying so hard to resist. He'd missed all she wasn't saying, but then, she hadn't said much. Mulder was fearful that not only had he missed what she was crying out between her words, but that Scully didn't even know that she needed help.

He eased his head against the door and tried to think of her tired eyes, the nights she couldn't sleep, and as he rested his own eyes all he could see flashing into view were the images … the situations … every time she uttered the words, "I'm fine."

It was just as he saw the sparks shimmering down overhead. A flash of that night in her apartment. A loud release of the final bullet in a round that ended Donnie Pfaster's life – that his cell phone rang. He jumped, awakened abruptly from his trancelike state, and stood-up. Mulder hesitated when he saw the name on his phone, but he wouldn't deny her, he'd always taken her calls.

"Maggie." He breathed into the receiver.

"I'm worried about Dana." Mrs. Scully replied.

 _What time was it?_ He wondered.

"I'm sure she's fine." He shook his head, almost sure he regretted the words and his tone. It was too late.

"Fox," she began again, more softly this time. The only woman he let call him by his first name and somehow, with her, it felt like an honor. It drove Scully nuts.

"Mrs. Scully things are not great betw-"

"I had a dream about her. She was alone and screaming. I woke up shaking."

Mulder found himself transported to the last significant time Mrs. Scully dreamed about her daughter. _The abduction_. He remembered her telling him about the dream after he saw Scully's hair and blood stuck to a table in her apartment, the night Duane Barry had taken her.

"She left for a conference a week ago and was staying in Pennsylvania to supervise some work at the Hershey Center Children's Hospital dealing with stem cell treatments. Have you tried to call her? I'm sure she's just thrown herself into her research. You know how -" He let his voice trailed off, having a hard time even believing it himself. Yes, Scully was a workaholic. They both were passionate about their work, but he trusted Mrs. Scully's intuition.

"She was here a few days ago. She left early Tuesday morning. She said it was work. Dana needs you. I know that she does."

"Mrs. Scully, what she needs is space." Even as he spoke, his anxiety was rising.

"Have you heard from her?" She asked.

"No. I've been on a case." He replied, all the more reason he would've been in contact with her under normal circumstances.

"You always kept her safe. It's the only reason I've ever been able to rest at night. I think she's gone. I just think she's gone, Fox."

Maggie listened as if she could hear him thinking though the phone. He wanted to tell her that her daughter didn't want him coming after her. That Scully thought they couldn't be together. The truth was, he hadn't heard anything from her for longer than he liked. It had kept him distracted on the case, and this did nothing but fuel the idea that things were a lot worse for her than she'd let him see.

"Did she say anything important while she was there? Did she seem strange at all?" He asked.

"No, she just went through a box of William's baby clothes that were up in the attic. She seemed tired. She went to bed right after dinner." Maggie Scully sounded exhausted.

"I'll find her." He grabbed the bag that had been sitting at his feet and headed toward the car he'd rented in DC. "Try not to worry, Mrs. Scully. Everything is going to be okay."

Yet, there was something deep within him that just didn't believe it.

Not this time.


	2. Chapter 2

**He Found Her in Pieces (Chp. 2)**

 **See Chp. 1 for disclaimer.**

* * *

Mulder had woken Skinner up to get Monica Reyes' contact information. He'd turned the car toward the town he believed the Van De Kamp's to live in and dialed her number.

"Monica, It's Fox Mulder. I'm sorry to wake you." He said, though his voice held an urgency that wasn't really apologetic at all. The more he drove, the more heavy he felt.

"Mulder, I wasn't asleep actually. I was going over some case files. What can I do for you?"

"It's Scully." He said simply.

"Dana? Is she okay?"

"I don't think so. I need you to tell me the truth. Have you seen her?"

There was too long of a pause.

"Monica, Mrs. Scully said that she left her house three days ago and she hasn't heard from her. She's - I have reason to believe she may have gone to see William. Monica …"

"I haven't seen Dana. She, she wouldn't have called me if she wanted to get to William. When she asked me to take him to the Van De Kamp's to keep him safe, I made her a promise. No matter the circumstances, I wouldn't tell her anything about him. I've never broken that promise." She added slowly. "She said she couldn't have given him up if it wasn't a completely closed adoption."

"Damn." Mulder breathed out the breath he'd been holding. He pulled the car over on the side of the road. "She's gone, Monica. I can't leave her alone. I've never been able to, not when she's hurting."

"Mulder? Maybe she's just taking some time to herself. I know that the work she was doing at Our Lady of Sorrows has been taking quite a toll on her."

"She called you?" He asked.

"Yes. It's been a couple of weeks. She seemed f-"

"Please don't say fine." Mulder interrupted, leaning his head against the steering wheel. "Even she seemed fucked would be better."

"If it helps any, I ran into the Van De Kamp's yesterday at the grocery store. They didn't mention anything to me - nothing out of the ordinary."

Mulder imagined Monica in the market. He tried to imagine what his and Scully's son would look like now, seven years old.

"Mulder, listen, if somehow Dana was able to find out any information or contact anyone close to the Van De Kamp's. She can't be alone."

"Monica, he's okay? Our son?" Before waiting for her answer Mulder pulled the car back onto the road and headed toward the interstate. If Scully had wanted to hide she wouldn't have gone to her mother's, she wouldn't have risked asking Skinner for help, but there was someone, _someones_ that would know how to hide her. Someone she wouldn't expect him to believe she would go to if she was losing herself..

"Just find her." He barely registered Monica's words as he drove as fast as he could to where he believed Scully could be.

He had to be right.

Wherever she was he knew she was close to breaking, and breaking was one of the only things that Scully never learned to do.

* * *

"Where is she?" Mulder asked before the door was even fully opened.

"Mulder." Langly said, shocked to see the former FBI agent in front of him. "Long time no … What can I do for you?"

"Just tell me where she is. I know she would have called the three of you for help. I know you're assisting her in whatever she's doing - I need to know where she is." Mulder finished, attempting to lower his voice. He was very aware that his request had come out much more like a plea than he'd hoped.

"Mulder, who are you looking for?" Langly inquired, looking briefly behind him.

"Don't play stupid, you're not good at it."

"If you thought we were helping Scully why would you come to Byers' apartment? Why would she be here? Why not the lair? Why not Frohike's place?"

"Why am I still in the hallway?" Mulder began to push past him, but he was halted by a familiar voice behind him.

"Because she didn't want you here, Mulder." Frohike answered, standing in the hallway holding a small paper bag. His voice sounded stern but sad. "She," he cleared his throat, "She doesn't want you here."

"It isn't about what she wants anymore, Frohike. It's about what she needs. I need to help her."

"That sounds a more like what you need." Frohike walked passed Mulder and Langly and into the the living room of Byers' apartment, dropping his keys and the package onto the table. He sat down on the couch. Frohike put his head in his hands and didn't look back up until her heard the bedroom door click shut across the room.

"I still haven't been able to help her sleep. Did you have any trouble getting the meds?" Byers was completely exhausted and it showed on his face. When Frohike didn't answer him, he followed his friend's gaze to see Fox Mulder standing at the edge of the threshold staring at Frohike while Langly looked down at the floor. No one was sure what to say.

Byers just nodded. "Come inside, Mulder." Langly shut the door and locked it behind them.

"So, Scully is here?" He didn't wait for the men to answer. He heard her cry out. She was screaming.

Byers immediately pushed back into the room, Mulder on his heals.

Langly tried to stop him. "You're not ready to see her like this."

The words stopped him, but it was too late. The room was barely lit by a small lamp that someone had put a scarf over to dim. He saw Byers crouch down beside a figure on the floor next to the bed. It was Scully.

She looked so much smaller than she seemed even two weeks ago. Her legs were pulled to her chest, and she was rocking back and forth. At first, it seemed as if she was oblivious to everything even though Byers was whispering to her in a comforting tone, words he couldn't quite make out. Her hair was pulled up on top of her head but was falling down in places. It looked as if a computer geek may have attempted to rectify it for her. She seemed to be shivering slightly, though she was wearing a huge oversized sweatshirt. A sweatshirt he recognized. It used to belong to her father. It simply read _Navy_ on the front and _Scully_ on the back. She only wore it when she was sick or upset. _How had she known to take it with her_? _Was she sick_?

He stood there frozen in place when she finally looked up and, he thought, straight through him.

She said a single word that came out more like a deep, aching moan.

"No."

Langly caught Mulder as his knees began to buckle and Byers shut the door to shield Scully from anything she might actually be taking in. He pulled Mulder over to a chair at the dining room table and sat down beside him.

"It's not good." He said as the color began to come back into Mulder's face. "Can I get you some water?"

Mulder didn't answer but Langley moved to get the water anyway. They were all dumbfounded. Langly had never seen Scully like this, and he was still pretty scarred from the condition she was in when they'd found her two nights ago.

"She said she didn't want you here." Frohike said, the anger palpable in his voice.

"Stop saying that," Mulder voiced through clenched teeth. "Someone tell me why she's here. What's happened to her? Why did she call the three of you? I want answers. And then I want to go in with her - alone."

Frohike got up and walked over until he was directly in front of Mulder.

"Why don't you tell me how it even got this far? Why is she in Byers' apartment and not in her home? Why didn't she call you?" He asked, pushing Mulder in the chest.

Byers cracked open the door to the guest bedroom. "Langly can you get me the bag of medicine and a glass of water?" Langly handed Byers the water he'd poured for Mulder and the bag Frohike had carried in earlier.

"Wait, what are you giving her?" Mulder asked feeling a bit defeated.

"Scully has a concussion, and it's making her nauseous. There's some medicine to settle her stomach." Byers began.

"And?"

"And she hasn't been able to sleep since we found her." Langly answered.

"So, you took her to the hospital?" He asked, though he knew what the answer would be. "She saw a doctor?"

Byers sighed. "She is a doctor, Mulder."

"Dammit. Yeah. Of course she is, a medical doctor."

Frohike shook his head. "She wouldn't go Mulder. She gave explicit directions before she would even tell us where to come and get her. Are you ready to listen?"

Mulder nodded. Whispering, "She needs my help."

"I'm going to try and get her to sleep." Byers said disappearing back inside the room where Mulder desperately wanted to be.

"What is going on?"

"I'm going to tell you the facts, and then I need to relieve Byers. He's been up sitting with her all night. We've been taking turns, but I had to leave to get the medicine. Beyond that, it's her story to tell."

"If she starts talking." Langly said as he and Frohike took seats at the table.

"Shit."

* * *

Byers tread softly back into the room where he hoped to find Dana Scully resting peacefully. As far as was concerned, there weren't many people in the world that deserved peace more than she did. He watched, albeit not firsthand, this woman being tortured literally and figuratively over the years. Her strength had always astounded him. Her strength still amazed him even as she sat next to the toilet in the bathroom of his home, her head resting on her knees - hidden from him. He slowly sat down next to her.

"Dr. Scully." He said, watching as she jumped slightly, even though his words were almost a whisper. She shook her head where it was resting on her knees. "Dana." He tried again, touching her shoulder, realizing how much she was trembling.

"We got you some medicine to help with the nausea. I know you didn't ask for it. I also got you some ginger ale. I'm not a medical doctor, but it always made me feel safe when my Mom would give it to me as a kid."

He strained to hear her, "Mulder. He's - is he really here?"

"I'm not sure which answer you want to hear. But, yes, he found you. Did you really doubt he would?"

There was no answer. She hadn't spoken more than a few words since they'd found her several days before, and he hoped the question she'd asked meant that was going to change.

"At least, take this for your your stomach?" He said as she looked up at him. He handed her the water and a single pill. She reached to take it but turned quickly becoming sick again. Byers rubbed her back, concerned about the seriousness of the concussion she'd suffered. Scully sat back against the wall, took the water, and swallowed the medicine he offered her. Her chin quivered, and she couldn't seem to make her world stop shaking.

Wordlessly, Byers sat the glass on the sink and picked up his friend, whispering to her calmly. "It's all going to be okay. I'm just going to help you into bed." She nodded, and then he was shivering as he felt her breath against his neck. "You're going to get through this, Dana."

He placed her on the bed and straightened out the covers that had been tangled at her feet. It took him only a moment to fill the syringe with the sedative Scully had requested in her initial instructions, when she'd called Frohike from Pennsylvania. She shuttered as he walked toward her, but she didn't say anything or shrink away. "I know you've heard this before, but it'll be a big stick and then a small sting." His eyes stung as she simply nodded her consent. He knew she just wanted to sleep. Byers rubbed the spot where the medicine went into her arm and then lifted the covers over her. He took her hand and sat with her, watching, until her eyes fluttered closed.

"Sweet dreams. Only, sweet dreams tonight."

He wouldn't leave her until he was sure she was fully asleep. Then, he would face Mulder. He knew it wouldn't be long until she needed his care more than the men that had found her on the hotel room floor. He knew she always did, but while Byers sat watch he would consider it an honor.


	3. Chapter 3

**He Found Her in Pieces (Chp. 3)**

 **For disclaimer see Chp. 1.**

 **I promise Scully and Mulder will be in the same room next chapter. :)  
**

* * *

"She called two nights ago." Frohike began.

"From Virginia? She called you from Virginia?" Mulder asked impatiently.

The men looked confused.

"Pennsylvania." Byers said as he entered the room.

"Is she okay?" Mulder asked him.

"She's sleeping." He answered. "She saw you."

Mulder dragged his hands through his hair. He was having trouble staying in his seat, but he needed to have answers. He wanted to have Scully in his arms now, but this time he had to choose what was best for her.

"Please continue," he said to Frohike.

"It's not easy to retell, Mulder. I'll relay to you everything I know. The rest will have to wait until she's ready." Mulder promised not to interrupt, as Frohike began again. He'd never been more scared to hear a story. He'd never remembered being scared of the dark.

"Byers was working on a new post for our weekly blog and Langly was playing Elder Scrolls when my phone rang. It was Scully. I couldn't believe it. We'd heard from the two of you less and less since you settled, but Scully especially. I answered quickly, but all I could hear was breathing. I thought maybe it was a mistake, but in our line of work … well, sometimes it pays to take that extra moment to listen. _I need your help_ , she said finally. Each word was labored and seemed to be strangling back tears. I almost didn't recognize her voice. _There are some conditions I need you to agree to first_ , she continued. It was her."

Mulder smiled, slightly, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"I asked her if the two of you were alright. By that time, Byers and Langly were paying pretty close attention. _Just me._ She answered. _Got it_. What are the conditions? There was a long pause and I began to worry. _I need help. I need you to come and get me. No one can know, Fro – Frohike._ She'd stumbled over my name. _I'm at a Days Inn near Hershey Park in Pennsylvania. Room 42 on the first floor._ She began to mumble after that and I couldn't quite make her out. I heard something crash. I would later find out that the lamp on the nightstand was broken. She must have stumbled into it when she fell," Frohike continued, drifting off into thought.

Langly broke in, "Scully asked Frohike to come and get her. She gave him instructions to fill-in his name as patient on a prescription that had been written out and left on the bed. Three injections of Seroquel and a 30 day supply of Lorazepam."

Mulder looked down at the floor as he willed himself to listen. _She'd prescribed herself tranquilizers and anxiety meds. She called Frohike. His Scully. She was in pain and she couldn't call him._

"She made him give his word that no one would be contacted, not her mother, not her brother, and not you." Langly trailed off. "He brought us."

Mulder turned away slightly, pushed the heels of his hands into his tired eyes, and then looked back up at Frohike who'd decided to push forward.

"The truth is that she sounded drugged already. Not that she had any … I don't know. Her voice was thick, dragging, and intermittent. As you saw for yourself, we only had the medicine filled today and who really knows if she'll believe we weren't the ones that told you that we have her here, but that night I heard her fall. I think she's still falling, Mulder. I thought she just dropped the phone and then I heard her sounding very distant as she whispered, _Absolutely, no hospitals_.

"So you don't know what made her like this? You don't know why she's so upset? She never told you if she went anywhere before making it to hotel in Pennsylvania?"

"So much for not interrupting," said Langly dryly.

"That wasn't the end of the story," Byers said, in a voice that was steady but haunted by the memories of that night. "We found her on the floor when we got there. She was face down between the nightstand and the bathroom door. There was a great deal of blood."

"What!" Mulder stood up from his chair, but Langly put a hand on his arm.

"You're going to want to sit down for this, Mulder."

"She was wearing a FBI T-Shirt. It wasn't hers." He cleared his throat and looked away from his friend. "When we turned her over she was very pale, her eyes were puffy, and she was unconscious. The bl-the blood was - "

"Just say it, Byers. Where was the blood coming from?" Mulder asked, he was wringing his hands.

"She had slit her left wrist."

Mulder looked like he might be sick. "No, there has to be some mistake. Maybe, maybe she was picking up the pieces of that lamp Frohike was talking about and, and …"

Frohike stopped him, "The lamp broke when she fell. That was what I heard when I thought the phone dropped. I'm sorry, Mulder."

"She wasn't responding, at first. She'd hit her head on the corner of the nightstand. We think she must have passed out from the blood loss, and well, I gathered that she hadn't been eating much. She was dehydrated as well. The fall may have been what saved her."

"Frohike? What does he mean? What saved her? She must have just been in pain, right? She had hurt herself and knew she needed help and she called you …"

"We're not sure, Mulder. We just don't know. We put a cloth on her head that Langly had dipped into an ice bucket and we just kept talking to her."

"Loudly," Langly responded.

"She was out of it, and she was murmuring. We could only make out a few phrases. _William … sorry … I couldn't do it on my own._ She finally recognized Frohike. She must have remembered calling him, but after that she wouldn't speak. I hurried to stop the bleeding on her wrist. The cut was … It was pretty deep."

The men could see a few tears making their way down Mulder's cheeks. He did nothing to stop them. He stood up and walked over to the door Scully was behind. He didn't open it, but they watched as he sat down on the floor. He eased his back against it as if he just needed to be closer to her.

"She should have called me. I thought that she wanted to be away from the darkness, the darkness that I brought. I … I didn't realize she had so much going on inside …" He said, deflated.

"We cleaned up the wound on her head. There was a small cut and some dried blood. She let Langly hold her hand, but she wouldn't look any of us in the eyes. I'd never seen her like that. So lost, so hollow … She needed stitches."

"So you did take her to the hospital?"

"We … her instructions were no …" Byers explained, he still seemed unsure if their loyalty had been the best decision.

"What … what the hell? You had no idea how serious her head wound was. You didn't know how much blood she'd lost. She always says no to the hospital, dammit! She tried to kill herself!"

"We don't know that," Frohike began.

"Melvin," Byers admonished.

"What?" His eyes snapping up to Byers.

"Her arm."

Mulder froze. He got up, grabbing Byers by the shirt. "What is it? What about her arm? Say something."

"Her other arm, it had a red mark on it. As if ..." Mulder let go of Byers. _No_. "If she wouldn't have fainted ..."

"Byers," Langly inserted, "She did call Frohike. She said she needed help."

Mulder felt as if he couldn't breathe. _He was on a case. He was … He was on a case while she was unconscious on the floor of a hotel room._

"We called Byers' sister. She's a nurse. It was a grey area, really. I think Scully's request to not be taken to the hospital was one fueled by shame and a fear of losing her medical license." Frohike explained.

"So, instead she wrote you a prescription for medicine you didn't need so that she could take it. Because that's ethical." Mulder shook his head. "She's okay now, physically?"

"Well, my sister brought fluids. We gave her an IV at the hotel. She stitched up the wound. She wanted us to have Dr. Scully admitted. I know it's crazy and maybe we should have … the head wound is still making her somewhat sick. I think that's what she believes anyway. I'm only guessing. We brought her here because I'm the one of us with any type of medical background. We thought she might be able to walk us through anything elementary she might need. Then, we thought she'd be talking."

"So, the three of you having been sitting in with her? Taking shifts?" Mulder asked, dropping back down to his seat on the floor.

"Yes." They all three answered.

"Be-because you thought she was a threat to herself."

"Strangely, that never entered our minds," Langly said.

"She hasn't been sleeping." Byers told him.

"She hasn't slept at all?" Mulder asked.

"Not until a few hours ago. She's been having these awful nightmares. Sometimes waking, sometimes when she falls asleep."

"About what happened to her?"

Frohike shook his head. "She screams about Pfaster, Duane Barry …"

"So, you believe this is just a compilation of PTSD she's held in for almost 14 years?" Mulder scoffed, but he didn't discount the idea.

"We were hoping since you were the one with the psychology degree, maybe you could tell us." Frohike said, truly at a loss for answers.

"And yet you weren't going to call me?"

"I think there was a catalyst." Byers interrupted. "I think something huge happened. I think a damn broke. I know that she needs you."

"She didn't want me here," Mulder responded.

"Oh, fuck you, Mulder." Frohike said, angrily. "She doesn't need you like this."

"Thank you, thank you for going to her."

"She doesn't need words to ask for you, Mulder, you know." Langly said, quietly. "Just a look."

All Mulder could do was nod.

 _He knew._


	4. Chapter 4

Dana Scully lay curled up in bed, the blankets loosely around her as if there were too many things in her life already choking her to tuck them in too close. She looked childlike, which was deceiving. The only time Mulder had ever seen her look so breakable was when she was hospitalized with cancer. At the time, it had been extremely difficult to see the normally strong, take no bullshit FBI agent who was an expert with a gun and could defend herself against monsters double her size breaking under the weight of such an unforgiving disease. Now, Scully was drowning. Despite his expertise in the field of psychology, somehow everything felt worse. He didn't know how to save her - not this time. She'd been so good at saving both of them. He brushed a piece of hair from her face, that face he'd been staring at since she was 27 years old. She had been losing herself right in front of him, and he'd been so wrapped up in his own isolation and disappointment to see past her words. _Dammit, Scully, this is killing me._

"I'm here now." Mulder whispered, wiping at the tears that were streaming down his face. _Suicide? Not his Scully. There had to be more to the story. She wouldn't …_ He closed his eyes, his hand resting gently on the blanket covering her legs. Mulder listened as her breath began to become shorter and realized that she was struggling in her sleep – just slightly, a jerk here and there, rocking back in forth. _Was she having a nightmare? Was she struggling against the drugs that were supposed to be helping her relax_?

"Shh … shh … none of that." He whispered softly. "Just sleep now. I know neither one of us are great sleepers, but you're not alone. We're going to get through this." Her eyes squinched up slightly, and her forehead wrinkled. He thought about her in her father's old sweatshirt and noticed the quilt she had over her. _The quilt had to have been what she went to get at her Mother's house._ The blanket Maggie had given her when William was born was covering her. Scully's grandmother made it out of the Rear Admiral's baby clothes. _Is that what she had wanted? To be safe again with her father? But what had brought up such fear again? Had Father Joe said more to her than she would share with him a few months back? Had the stress of saving Christian been too much for her?_ "No, more worries, Starbuck. You're safe." He said to her softly. Scully shifted once more before calming back into a more restful sleep. _A Daddy's girl under all that steele._

Mulder turned his head at the movement of the door opening slightly. He walked over to Frohike, who handed him a cup of coffee.

"You're going to need this." Mulder wasn't a huge fan of the liquid but he needed something to keep him awake. He nodded his thanks."Langly and I are going to head out for a bit to get some sleep. We'll be back tonight. Byers is in his room if you need him."

Mulder patted Frohike's back, watching as the man stole a quick glance at Scully to reassure himself before he headed out.

"It's a hell of a thing."

"Yeah." Mulder shook his head.

"She's has a bag, it's under the edge of the bed. We also brought her phone and some documents that were in her hotel room. They're over on the bookshelf." Frohike told him. He was caught by surprise as the smaller man hugged him before walking away. "I'm glad you're here."

* * *

Mulder nodded off in his seat despite the coffee he'd chugged after Frohike left. _How long had it been_ _?_ He grabbed Scully's phone of the bookshelf. Almost 11 a.m. He was happy to see that Scully had been asleep for a solid 7 hours.

Mulder stared down at Scully's phone. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have invaded her privacy in such a way. She was the only person he had ever fully trusted. There was never a need to look into her phone logs before, but he needed any clues he could gather to help him. He really didn't know much about smart phones, still carrying a flip phone himself. He just hoped she hadn't changed her password. _1419_. He tapped in the number of the apartment building she'd lived in while they were assigned to the X-Files. The phone lit up displaying a photo of a lighthouse she was fond of in Maine.

Mulder put off listening to the voicemailss for the time being and scrolled back to two nights ago. There were a couple of calls from Frohike. _He must've tried to contact her on their way to Pennsylvania_. There were several calls from her work. _That would have to be dealt with soon_. Her mother had tried to call, though he knew those calls had gone unanswered. She must have called Frohike from the hotel phone. That would make sense if she wanted them to be able to trace it … if she hadn't made it through the call. _Please don't have planned this, Scully._

Recent Outgoing Calls. Then, he found what he'd been looking for. She'd made several calls to a number with the area code of the state where the Van De Kamps' lived. In fact, for several weeks there were calls to the number. He scrolled back down to the day before Scully had called in the Lone Gunmen. There was a call to a number in DC that he didn't recognize and that night around midnight … Mulder's hands began to shake and he dropped the phone. _No_. For a split second, he thought he'd just leave the damn phone on the floor. He willed himself to pick it back up and look at the number. There it was at 12:07 a.m., the morning before the night Byers, Langly, and Frohike found her lying on the floor of a hotel. Scully called his phone. One call. No voicemail. Just one call. She'd reached out to him. He'd been where his phone was out of service in a rural part of West Virginia for just one of the nights he'd worked on the case for Skinner. She called him. He wanted to scream.

But she did it for him.

Mulder jumped, dropping the phone again, and this time he didn't pick it up.

* * *

"Let me out. You let me the hell out of here! You son of a bitch! It's too dark. Please, I can't breathe. Let meeeeeeeeeee out!"

Mulder ran over to Scully unsure if touching her would do more harm than good. She was kicking the covers, fighting against something. The bed shook with her movements as he sat down on the edge of it. _Where was she?_ He had to figure out where she was in her head.

"It's too dark. I can't see anything. Let me out of this trunk, you bastard!" _Duane Barry. The abduction._

He grabbed the scarf off of the lamp and hurried to open the blinds. The light poured in.

"Scully, open your eyes! You're safe. It's not dark."

"Untie my hands! My wrists hurt. Untie me, now! I have to get out of here!" Her struggling caused the too big arms of the sweatshirt to bunch up, and reality hit him as as the light allowed him to see for the first time the bandage that led from her wrist down her forearm. _Oh, God._

Before he could reach her, she was tearing at it. "Untie my wrists, Barry! Let me out of this trunk!"

"Scully, no" He said forcefully as he knelt down by the bed. "Scully, it's me, Mulder." He took her by the shoulders and tried to still her movements but she continued to fight him off.

"Help! Mulder, please find me!" She yelled.

"I'm here. Open your, eyes. Please just open your eyes."

Scully's eyes opened so suddenly it took Mulder aback. She sat up quickly, disoriented from sleep and medication. She swayed, and he thought she might bang her already sore head on the headboard. He reached out to protect her, but she pushed herself backwards scurrying as far away from him as she could. Wedging herself into the corner where the bed met the wall, she made her body as tiny as possible. She wouldn't look up.

"Scully, are you awake? It's me, Mulder. I'm here. I'm with you."

* * *

She was shaking so hard that she couldn't speak, unable to voice the words he wanted to hear. He reached out and tried to gently lift her chin, so that she would meet his eyes. It was a gesture that was so familiar to her.

"Scully?"

She reached up with the arm that had a bright white bandage now dangling from it. It was now barely attached to her skin. She pushed his hand away.

"Get back, Mulder. Please. I can't …"

She was relieved when he climbed off the bed and pulled the chair a good way away from it before sitting down.

"So, you did need your space." He muttered.

Her weary eyes looked at him with a bit of contempt before look downward in shame. Her mouth felt so dry it was hard to form any type of word. She needed some water, but she didn't want to ask him for help.

"I didn't ask for you." She said, unable to take her eyes off the bandage hanging from her arm. There was dried blood on the strip of cotton material. He noticed that she couldn't make herself turn her arm to see the stitches in her wrist. _Did she even remember how they got there_?

"They didn't call," was all he could think to say, his gaze frozen on the bandage as well.

He didn't know if it was the sleep, the psychiatric meds, or dare he think, his presence that had brought her back to speaking in more than just nightmares, but he felt like it might be step in the right direction. She was moving out of shock. _Shock of what_? He couldn't be sure and he wasn't going to push her.

"Can you remember anything?" Mulder asked, his voice weighed down with emotion.

It was a loaded question and it felt to heavy for her.

"It hurts." She said, hoarsely. He handed her the water and let her sip before sitting it back down and going back to his chair.

"Your arm?" He asks quietly. She shook her head in response and finally looked up at him, her eyes unfocused. She didn't want to talk about her arm.

"It hurts." Scully repeated. Her hand on her chest.

Mulder realized that she'd been holding it all in. The Lone Gunmen mentioned screaming in dreams and being too hollow to speak … but she'd never cried? It wasn't a release she often allowed herself and even when she did it was usually silent tears.

"Can I sit on the bed? I won't … I won't touch you." She consented and as he sat down slowly.

"It hurts. She whispered to him. "I can't … I can't breathe." She was having a panic attack.

"It's okay. Listen to me. Listen to my voice. Just relax. It's going to be fi -"

"I'm not fine, Fox." She said, gasping for air.

Scully covered her mouth with her hand, and he reached for her. To his surprise, she held tight to him and pulled herself into his embrace.

He kissed the top of her head and stilled himself for what he knew was about to happen.

"Cry, Dana."

At first, he just continued to feel her hiccuping in gasps of air and then her body began to tremble harder. He rubbed her back, talking in her ear as tears soaked his shirt, and a long wail rose from her mouth. She moaned clutching his sleeve.

"It's okay. Let go. I'm here."

Slowly, the moaning turned into sobs. There were broken phrases. "You'll hate me … William … It's my fault … so sorry."

And even though he couldn't transform the phrases into any type of solid answers, he began to cry with her.


	5. Chapter 5

"I heard crying. Is that good?" Byers asked.

"It isn't bad," Mulder replied, with a reassuring smile on his face. After, she had cried out some of the emotions she'd been trying to push away for the past few days, Scully had fallen into a deep sleep in his embrace. Once he'd settled down on the bed with her in his arms, Mulder had followed into his own slumber. "She was able to sleep without a nightmare." He told him. Frohike and Langly had returned with food, and they were setting it all out on the table.

"We got Scully some soup." Frohike said handing it to him. "It's egg drop from this Chinese place around the corner. I didn't think she'd be up to coming out yet. You can take it in to her."

Mulder nodded and took the food.

"I actually came out to see if you had a first aid kit? She, uh, she tore the bandage on her arm earlier. She was having a horrible dream."

"Here." Langly, opened a draw in the kitchen. "We have all the stuff from the hotel that Byers' sister left for us."

"Byers as soon as she feels up to it, I can … Well, haven't decided where to take her yet." Mulder admitted.

"No hurry. You're welcome to stay as long as you need to." Byers replied.

"Thank you."

"Are you okay, Mulder? It's a lot to take in. I mean even for us and she's not our … Scully." Frohike asked.

"I'm not okay … no, but, listen, I bed get back in and try and get her to eat something." He grabbed a spring roll and disappeared back into the bedroom.

* * *

Scully was unsteadily making her way from the bathroom when Mulder came back in. He quickly sat the food down on the desk, and supported her by her uninjured arm.

"Take it slow," he said.

"Mulder," she began.

"You have a knot on your head the size of a golf ball, Scully, and I doubt you've eaten in days. Though we're about to fix that." He helped her sit down in the desk chair. "I'm going to re-bandage your arm, okay?"

She looked away from him.

"No. No shame. I love you."

She shook her head. "You're going to change your mind about that soon."

"It could never happen. I've tried too hard in the past to make it stop." He smiled. She didn't. He knew what she had to tell him wouldn't be good, but he wasn't leaving.

"I'm not going anywhere, Scully. Push me away, all you want. I'm pretty used to it."

"Everybody leaves, Mulder." Her eyes seemed empty when he looked at them. He needed to keep her talking.

"Why don't you eat first? I can fix your … wound … after your finished. Would you like pants?" She almost seemed to grin.

"Yes. There are some scrubs in my bag, although, I can't say I know where my bag is." Mulder walked over and pulled the gym bag from underneath the bed.

"This is mine, by the way." He teased her. He stopped in motion for a moment as he remembered it wasn't the only item of his she'd taken with her and tried to shake the image from his head of her bloodied and on the floor in his FBI T-Shirt. But she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at her phone that was an arm's length from him on the floor.

"Oh, here's your - "

"Don't touch my phone. Stay away from it." She said to him and he wasn't sure if it was fear or anger in her eyes.

"No problem." He pushed it across the carpet and it bumped against her chair. She'd been fighting between vulnerability and protectiveness since she'd recognized him after her nightmare. "In the interest of full disclosure, though, former special agent Scully. While you were asleep, I looked at your call log."

"You had no right," she said angrily. Her hands shaking as she picked up the phone off the floor.

"You tried to ki – you've been through a lot, Scully. You were knocked out on drugs that you prescribed, Frohike so that you could take. I was trying to find -"

"The truth?" She asked snidely. "Isn't that what always comes first for you?"

"I was scared." Mulder said, staring into her eyes. If he was going to help her, he'd start by being honest with himself and with her. "Please stop this, Dana. Please." He handed her the scrubs and watched as she tried to hold herself steady enough to put them on. He knew she wouldn't ask for help. "This defensive act is old and I've seen it before. I don't know what happened. I don't know what you think I'll do when I find out but please let this one wall fall down. You're safe with me."

She stood with her back to him. Attempting to tie the scrubs in place, but having trouble with her injured arm. She fumbled with it and then tried to tie it with one hand. Finally, she pulled the sweatshirt down over her waist and sat.

"I was never safe with you. I'm sorr -"

Before she could apologize, he interrupted her. "Hey, it's probably just low sugar. That always makes me moody. Here why don't you try to sip on some more soup …" He made sure she could maneuver it before bending down to look at her arm. He looked at it closely, letting himself take it all in. Scully hadn't been paying attention. She couldn't look him in the eyes. When she felt a few drops of wetness on her skin, she looked down at him. _Tears. His tears._ She couldn't look at her arm. He was holding it so gently, a comforting contrast to the ache she felt there. A strong feeling of guilt kept her from asking for anything for the pain.

Her own eyes began to water as she felt him cleaning the area with a wet alcohol wipe, his tears mixing in. He leaned down and kissed her hand. Scully sat down the soup. She was having handling his emotions while trying to push down the chaos of her own. Mulder placed a kiss next to each stitch. That's when she knew that there were seven total. It still felt so unreal.

"Mulder, I didn't try – I don't know what happened. I was just so upset. My med kit was there. The scalpel …"

"Shh. Shh. It's okay. You don't have to tell me right now." The truth was he didn't know if he was ready to hear it. "I want you to know that I'm sorry. I don't think I've been listening, Scully. I'm sorry that I didn't see what you needed. I'm sorry that my own pain has at times left you so alone. I didn't realize how much you were hurting." She tried to stand up, to move away from him. She'd never seen him be quite so vulnerable with his feelings. "No, you don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to take it in. Just know."

She nodded. He took out the bandages and cut the strips of tape. Once, he got the wound covered, he kissed her forehead and handed her a couple of Motrin he'd found in the bathroom cabinet. "Take these." He knew she wouldn't argue, her arm had to be screaming with pain. While she was swallowing the pills, he reached down and tied her scrubs.

"Actually," she pulled his hands away gently. "Could you maybe help me take a bath? I'm not really steady on my feet. I don't really know the last time I've gotten to take a shower."

"I thought you'd never ask. You being smelly was my main concern." He said, ask he walked into the bathroom and began to run the water. When, he returned he saw that she was crying again, holding herself up by the back of the desk chair. He picked her up and took her into the bathroom. He'd never seen her this upset in all the years that he'd known her, but Mulder just let her cry.

He helped her as she stepped out of the maroon scrub pants and handed her a tissue before carefully helping her get the navy sweatshirt over her head. Scully took his hand as she stepped into the bath. When he offered to let her soak for awhile, she held tighter to him.

"Please. I don't want to be alone." He nodded and sat down on the tiled floor still holding her hand in his.

There eyes locked and Mulder wasn't sure if she was looking at him or through him, into the past or frozen in this waking nightmare that she kept trying to force away. It just wouldn't go from her. Her body was shaking despite being in the hot water. Every few minutes she would jerk slightly and then there would be stillness for a few seconds before she began to shake again. It was as if she was using all the energy she had left to push the feelings she was so afraid of under the surface, but eventually her body would betray her. If what was happening couldn't come through Scully, it would bubble out of her in any form possible.

"Scully," he asked softly, "Are you okay being in the tub?"

She nodded once and then seemed to focus. "It's why asked you to stay with me. I didn't trust myself … I didn't trust myself to stay .. to not have another flashback. Dream. Memory? I can't tell anymore. Pfaster. I couldn't wake up. When I did, I was in a tub – bleeding. They found me when he left."

"Scully, Pfaster is dead. He never got you into the tub." He rubbed his thumb across her hand before bringing it to his lips.

"No, Mulder. I woke up in a tub. There was blood on … on your shirt." She covered her eyes with her free hand. "They found me after he left. I'm so sorry. So sorry. You'll never forgive me. I – I don't forgive myself."

"Look – look at me, Scully." He said gently. "Please, look at me. Who found you in the tub?"

"The Lone Gunman."

* * *

"Do you think we should turn up the TV?" Langly asked as sobbing loud and pain filled could be heard coming from the other room. "I just feel like it's private, you know. It's Scully."

"She's been wanting him for days," Frohike replied. "Waiting for him. She may have called us, but Mulder is the only one I think she's ever been completely bare in front of."

Byers shook his head. "I just keep replaying everything in my head. What if she hadn't called? What if we hadn't gotten there when we did?"

"I guess it's good that she trusted us," Frohike said.

"All she's been through during her time in the X-files, while they were on the run ... I can't believe she hasn't broken before now." Langly said, as he listened to the sobs of the strongest woman the three of them had ever met.

"She's tough. This is just another side of strength, I think." Frohike commented.

"Vulnerability." Byers said. He watched as Langly picked up the remote to turn up the TV. "Why don't we go out for awhile?" Byers wasn't sure he could listen much longer.

"Yeah," Frohike agreed, "I know I could use a drink."

Byers smiled slightly as he grabbed his coat, "I'll buy the first round."


	6. Chapter 6

***** So, if you just watched Home Again on Monday, you might want to give yourself a little break. They're not related but this is a hard chapter. I promise next chapter there will be some blanks filled in and a little twist that helps you understand what really happened in the hotel room. Thank you so much for reading. This is the longest fic I've ever done. Please feel free to share or review if it makes you happy. *****

* * *

"Scully, did you go see William?"

She covered her eyes. "No." It came out as more of a cry of pain, than an actual word. She slid her knees up in the tub, hugging them. "Mulder, he's gone. William's gone."

Mulder moved over closer to her. He didn't even think about his clothes as he sat on the edge of the tub to steady her. He let Scully cry as he pulled down her hair and clumsily began to wash it. As he rinsed out the shampoo, he felt her hand. She was reaching for him. He squeezed tight.

"I wanted to find him. I couldn't … I couldn't ask Monica. When she took him to the Van De Kamp's, I'd requested in no uncertain terms that she was to keep an eye on him, but that I wanted to know nothing." He kissed her hand as she continued, reseating himself next to her beside the tub.

"I talked to Monica before I came here. She said she'd seen the Van De Kamp's recently and that everything seemed normal. She said that if you'd spoken to them, you didn't need to be alone." She began to cry harder.

"Scully? Just tell me." He felt as if there were a brick on his chest and he didn't think his muscles could tighten any further.

"William … di-died. He had … he had cancer. I went to the hospital and used my credentials to get copies of his chart. He's gone. I'm so sorry."

Mulder had a hard time processing what she was telling him. He thought she'd gone to see William. He believed that Scully would realize how much she wanted a child, that child specifically. Their son. He imagined how much harder it would be knowing William had been her only chance to be a mother, and she couldn't be with him. But death? Death crushed both their hopes. As he listened to her sadness fill up the room, he wasn't sure what to do with his own grief. The shock of losing his only son … Yet, for right now he knew it had to take a backseat to helping her – the only woman that had truly understood him and accepted him as he was. She was his best friend.

Scully wasn't sure how to interpret Mulder's silence. She thought he would hate her. She felt so guilty for giving William away while Mulder was gone. Guilty because she had made the decision without him. She'd wanted to do what was best for him and now, now it seemed that even though she'd made a choice to keep William safe … she hadn't succeeded in saving his life. She saw the tears in Mulder's eyes as he looked back at her.

"Scully, none of this is your fault."

"How can you say that?" She said in frustration. She slammed down her arm on the tub, unable to to hold in the contempt she felt for herself. The pain reverberated through her and her breath stilled for a moment. She'd wanted him to be angry with her. She was so angry with herself. "I failed William."

Mulder sat up, taking her face in his hand. "Don't say that. I left you alone. You did what you thought was right. I know how much you loved him. I loved him, too." Scully leaned her forehead against his.

"Giving him away was supposed to keep him safe." Mulder leaned in kissing her lips.

"It isn't fair, Scully, but it isn't your fault." He reached down before she could protest and lifted her out of the tub. She clung to him, crying into his ear.

"The shot Spender gave him was supposed to … was supposed to help him live a normal life. What if it gave him cancer? What if he has cancer like I had cancer from testing? How do we know they never came for him after he went to live with his new family? Mulder, what if they wanted us to think … what if they were just trying to hurt us?"

"Breathe. Just breathe." He kept repeating to her as he wrapped a towel around her before pulling her into his lap on the bed. She lay her head in the curve of his neck.

"It wasn't the same, Scully. Monica would've known something. They wouldn't have gone after him. They didn't do tests on him. He wasn't targeted. Somewhere deep inside I think you know that." He pulled the quilt of her father's baby clothes up around her.

"The chart read family history unavailable. I'm his mother. I had cancer." She countered.

"Scully, your cancer was not the "run in the family" kind." Mulder countered.

She shook her head. "If I had known, I could've been … I'm a doctor. I could have done something."

"Dana …"

"I'm his mother. I could have at least held his hand. Leukemia, Mulder. Chemo. Tests. It was in the chart. Bone marrow transplants." She said through a sob. "He had two. What, what if one of us had been a better match?" Both her fists squeezed tight to his now soaking wet shirt. "He was our miracle."

Mulder began to rock her back and forth. There were no words he could say to make this better.

"He would've been so small, Mulder. What quality of life did I leave him to? Six months ago. The chart said he died six months ago. I was helping someone else's child live. Dammit, Mulder! I should have been saving ours!"

"There's nothing you could've done. You didn't know." He placed kisses on her still wet head. Byers had been right. There was a catalyst, something huge had opened up everything Scully had tried to keep locked down for so long. It hurt like hell to lose his son, but it was up to him to decide how he could help restore William's mother.

"Why didn't you come home? Why didn't you let me mourn him with you?" He whispered.

"I couldn't face you, Fox. I could bare to see the look in your eyes. I know what you said when I told you I'd had to give William up for adoption. I also know you had to be hurt, disappointed. I made this decision without you, and you didn't want me to find him. Then I did and there was such a new kind of pain. How could I tell you that it was all for nothing? You could have known your son for the past seven years. I stole that from you. I know you hate me. You have every right to."

"Listen to me now, I do not hate you. Does it make me angry? Yes. I wanted you to have the baby you longed for so much. I hate that I couldn't give you the relationship … us the relationship with him that we both wanted. It was not safe for him to be with us. Our lives were in danger. We were on the run. How could we have gotten him the care he needed? As hard as it is to know and as much as it hurts, Scully, you did the right thing." Mulder told her, hoping the truth would sink in.

"I drove to Pennsylvania that day after I found out. The loss was too great. Everything began to cave in. Things I hadn't even thought about in years ... crashing into my mind. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing Pfaster or Barry or you on the ground in Richmond about to be axed to pieces. We lost him, our son, Mulder. We lost him twice."

Mulder pulled her up to face him. He looked her straight in the eyes. "And you thought that it wouldn't kill me to lose you, too? Dammit, Dana, what if you had died?"

* * *

It seemed as if they'd stared at each other for hours. She'd gone completely silent, not quite sure enough what had happened to her in that hotel room to speak of it out loud, but scared enough that it had happened. He knew she felt out of control and Mulder had been close to her long enough to know that control was something she clung to. He'd finally removed himself from the bed and helped her into her pajamas that they discovered were at the bottom of the bag. Then, he'd given her two of the Lorazepam and found some dry clothes in Byers room. Mulder was making her a glass of chamomile tea he'd found in the kitchen, when Scully came and sat down on the couch.

"I was about to bring you this tea. I thought you'd be drowsy by now." He leaned over and kissed her, handing her the cup of tea.

"Where are the guys?" she asked, her voice hollow.

Before Mulder could answer, his phone rang. He'd pressed the button to accept the call thinking it would be Frohike. Then, he saw the name of the caller.

"Maggie," he looked down at Scully, "I apologize. I meant to call you back sooner. I know you're worried … Yes, I'm with her." He said, as he watched his former FBI partner stand up and walk back into the bedroom. Her face said it all. "She's going to be … She will be fine. She'll call you soon. Yeah. I'll tell her." Mulder hung up his phone. "Scully?"

"My mom," she said as he came back to sit with him.

He nodded. "She sends her love."

"She's worried something's wrong? Did you call her?"

"No, she called me actually. She had a dream about you. She gets them sometimes, you know. It helped me realize that my own premonition that something wasn't quite right, wasn't quite off …"

"That's when you started looking for me?" She asked.

"Yes."

"No, Skinner?" She smiled slightly.

"No, Skinner. You know, Scully, there are times that I can do a few things on my own." He pulled her to him. "But most of the time, I like having a partner."

"And the guys?"

"They're probably at a geek bar. Do they have those?"

"Did you tell her about … ?" She lifted her bandaged arm slightly, though he still hadn't seen her look at it herself.

"No. That's your story to tell. Do you remember?" He asked, then felt her shake her head against him.

"I remember the drive from back to the hotel. I was having flashbacks. I pulled over. I called you."

He hung his head. "My phone wasn't getting service. I'm … It doesn't matter I should have been where you could reach me."

"So, you took the case?" He nodded. " I thought I'd be done by the time you got back from the conference. "I thought you weren't coming home. And you almost didn't …"

"The flashbacks were getting stronger as I got closer to Pennsylvania. I had a horrible headache. I thought maybe I could lay down and it would go away, but it was all coming at me at one time and I just broke, Mulder. I've never, I've never experienced anything like that before."

He lifted her arm. Running his hand lightly over it. "This, this happened before you called Frohike."

"Mulder." She looked away from him.

"I need to know."

"Yeah – Yes. I think so."

"So, it wasn't planned?" Mulder asked.

"Mmm … No."

"Yet, you had the foresight to write a prescription?" He said, softly. He'd never thought twice about challenging Scully in the past, but now, he wasn't quite sure where to push her and how much might cause more pieces of her to fall out of place.

"Leave it alone, Mulder. I can't … I don't remember."

He wasn't sure if it was the truth, but he knew she couldn't give anything more right now. She was emptied.

"Scully, do you want your Mom?"

She pulled away from him, struggling again to breathe. Mulder watched her as she stumbled toward the desk. He was ready to move towards her were she to tumble. He watched as she leaned all her wait on the desktop. "No, please don't … I can't breathe. Why," She stopped, gasping for air. "Why does this keep happening?" He started toward her, but she held up a hand. "No, please. Just. Stay. Back."

"Ok. It'll pass. Just deep breaths. In and out." The last thing Scully needed was to pass out. Her body and mind had been through so much. "In. Out." He watched as she blew out the air she'd been holding in her lungs. She dropped into the chair and they both startled as her phone rang.

Mulder watched her watching it as it rang once, twice …

"Dr. Scully."

 _No. "_ What are you doing?" She turned a little to quickly and had to catch her balance, but the look she gave him was not to be mistaken. He had been on the receiving end of that side glance a few times before, and so, he just observed.

"Yes, Emery. Thank you calling back so quickly. I wasn't sure if you'd gotten my text."

Mulder wasn't sure to be amazed by what he was seeing or outraged. She was a force of nature. Even though, she frequently blew his mind during the circumstances in which she surprised him by gathering strength. He was also very aware that it was this, this denial of the things she was feeling that had brought them to the place they were in now. He wanted to rip the phone out of her hands. How she was even managing to not slur her words, baffled him. The Lorazepam should have knocked her out by now.

"Dr. Lawrence will have to be on call for my patients as of now. Hershey? They did contact you? Yes. I had to leave rather suddenly. There was … " Mulder waited to see what her explanation would be. "There was a death in my family." He watched as she pulled the phone away from her mouth for a moment. She looked straight into his eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Dr. Scully?" He heard. "Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here. There was a death in my family, and I had to go out of state quickly. It may be a week …"

Mulder felt sick to his stomach.

"Of course. If they need the hospital needs to contact me about the leave they can call and leave a voicemail, and I'll get back to them. I'm afraid I won't be readily available. No, that's all. Yes, thank you for your condolences."

 _Oh, God_.

Scully hung up the phone and let it fall to the floor. Mulder watched as she soon followed it, her legs crumpling beneath her.

"I would ask if your alright, but the answer to that seems to be obviously clear." He said bending over her. Mulder sat down, leaning her up against his chest.

"The room was moving."

"You're not used to all the medicine. It's probably a side effect." He reached for the water he'd left on the desk earlier. "Sip on this."

"I can't keep my eyes open." She said. "They're so heavy."

"Well, apparently you're on leave _**now**_ _._ So, I think it's safe to get some sleep." She rolled her eyes in his direction. "When did you have time to text your assistant, Scully? A week, by the way?"

"I had to do something, Mulder."

 _So do I_. He thought to himself.

Mulder looked down at Scully in his arms, her eyes closed. He reached over and placed her phone into one of the drawers of the desk and shut it. He situated her more comfortably against him and let her sleep. When she woke, there would have to be answers and he was going to have to make some decisions he knew she wouldn't like. He finally knew he loved her enough to make them. Now, rocking her back and forth slowly, he was the one who couldn't breathe.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

 **I've put more work into this story than I originally expected. The reviews have been so kind and I'm thankful for everyone who is reading. I'm thinking 11 chapters total, but we'll see.  
**

* * *

"I think she'll go … I'm just not sure if she'll ever speak to me afterwards." Mulder mumbled as he gestured for Frohike to sit across from him. "I just want to know I'm going to have your support, if I need it. I know it may not be the most pleasant process to get Scully to cooperate on this."

"You mean if you have to drag her out kicking and screaming," Frohike said with a small smile.

"Drugged and over my shoulder? Well, she did shoot me once." Mulder laughed hollowly.

"Mulder, I'm truly sorry about William." He looked down, shaking his head as if he just needed to move on.

"Right now, I have to help her. I can't think too hard about that. I have to make sure Scully comes out of this … whole – as whole as she can."

"So where do we start?" Frohike sighed.

"The beginning. I know she has some holes in the things that she remembers. I thought if you guys would sit with us and she can fill in the before and you could fill in the between ..."

Frohike looked down at the book in Mulder's hand. "C.S. Lewis, G-man?"

"Uh … Scully likes me to read it to her when she can't sleep or -"

"I understand. I just wouldn't have guessed. Something familiar to escape to when the chapters of this world get too stressful." Frohike commented.

"Or the monsters get too big. Let's keep it between us." He said, standing up. "I believe this is the 3rd time we've read through The Silver Chair since I've known her."  
"We'll support whatever you need to do, Mulder." Frohike said, smiling at the idea that "spooky" Mulder read aloud to Dana Scully the "ice queen" when she couldn't sleep at night.

"Thanks." He said, the weight of the decisions he wished he didn't have to make heavy on his mind.

"What makes you think she'll talk about what happened in front of us?"

"Because, she's a scientist. And she'll be wanting all the facts to draw the conclusions she needs. She doesn't like holes. Trust me. I've known her a long time. "

 _And loved her a long time_. Frohike thought. "I'll fill in Langly and Byers." Mulder simply nodded.

"I have a few phone calls to make. Scully should be awake by then." He stopped and turned back before heading out on the patio. "She thinks you found her bleeding in a tub."

"We were hoping she might not remember that."

* * *

"Are you sure that's a good time for you? I just have a few things I need to talk through with you. No, she doesn't know that I'm coming."

"Come over after mass, Fox. I'll fix you lunch. I'm sure you've been taking care of my daughter and not of yourself." Maggie said to the man, that over time, she had come to trust almost as much as her daughter.

"Mrs. Scully, please don't go to the trouble of making me lunch. Besides, I don't really want to leave Scully for longer than necessary."

"You'll eat. Then, we'll talk." She wanted to say more, to ask how her daughter was really doing. Maggie knew Dana was safe if she was with him, but was she really ok? It was hard for her to think what it might be that Fox Mulder had to talk about. Especially, if he was going to talk with her about it without Dana knowing. They were each other's secret keepers, protectors – Dana and Fox. So, Maggie kept, it simple. She would rest as much as a mother possibly could knowing something was hurting their child, and she would listen to the man her daughter loved as he ate a home cooked meal.

"Deal." He shifted uncomfortably, the chill of the night air creeping into his bones as he leaned against the rail of the patio at Byers' apartment. "Mrs. Scully?"

"Yes, Fox?"

"Why aren't you asking me if going behind Scully's back is the best thing to do?"

"I don't think you'd make a decision concerning, Dana, unless you had her best interest at heart. Maybe, if you were make decisions about yourself, but I know how you are with her ..."

"You and I. We may have some tough decisions to make tomorrow." He said softly, the exhaustion palpable in his voice.

"Then, we'll make them."

He nodded, although he knew that she couldn't see him. "And her fiery temper?"

 _Just like her father's_. Maggie thought. "Then, we''ll burn together."

"No, Mrs. Scully. I'll take the heat for this one." He laughed slightly, then pulled the phone from his ear as he heard it beep. "I, uh, I have a call coming through. If it wasn't it important I wouldn't -"

"I'll see you for lunch, Fox."

"Dr. Eckles? Yes, this is Fox Mulder. Thank you so much for getting back to me so quickly."

* * *

"I hate this. I hate feeling weak. I hate all the tears. I hate that he's gone – again." Scully released the last part as a whisper. Mulder pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear as she held pressure with her pointer fingers on each tear duct. Trying to quell the sting and stop the flow of unwanted tears.

"Would pizza make you feel any better?" He smiled at her lacing his hand through hers and tugging her towards him and into a hug.

"Are there mushrooms?" She asked muffled against his chest.

"Yes, mushrooms and Xanax. Pizza Hut has extended their toppings menu for the buy one large pizza get one free special."

"I'll take a small piece." She said looking up at him. "Why are we doing this again?"

"You don't have to." Mulder had gone in to ask Scully if she'd like to talk with the Lone Gunman to fill in some of the missing pieces … some of her missing pieces, and she'd consented immediately. He wasn't a practicing psychologist and all his profiles of Scully, though they had always been strong, were strongly tainted by his feelings for her. The answers so soon after the trauma could help and they could hurt, but he knew she wanted them. Right now, it felt good to give her something she wanted because tomorrow would be another situation entirely. She nodded her head.

"I do."

He bent down and kissed her lips. "You're the bravest person I know."

"Even now?"

"More so." He felt her hand lace into his and squeezed it as he led her into the dimmed living room where the Lone Gunman were eating pizza out of the box.

"Agent Scully … Dr. Scully ..."

"Dana."

"Dana. Eat up, former G-Woman." Langly said, handing her a piece of pizza on a napkin.

"Thanks, cutie." She said putting the Gunman at ease.

"Ah, Vegas. Good times." Langly said smiling at her. She walked over to Byers, and it took everything she had to pull her gaze from the floor and look him in the eyes.

"Thank you for – for everything, John. I promise I'm not staying forever."

"However long you need." Byers said, placing a hand on her arm. She turned away from the emotion in his eyes to see Frohike standing near her with his arms held wide.

Mulder was surprised when she walked into them. "I'm so sorry about, little man." He heard Frohike speak close to her ear. Scully tensed up momentarily, then relaxed into his embrace.

"Thank you." She said kissing his cheek before turning watery eyes toward Mulder.

"You'll have to excuse, Scully. Her pizza hasn't quite kicked in yet." The men watched the moment that only the two understood. Scully laughing slightly as she wiped away a few stray tears.

"I'm ready. Who starts?" She asked, settling close enough to Mulder on the floor for them to touch. He put his arm over her shoulders and held each of her hands with one of his.

"Squeeze hard if you need to," he whispered for her ears only.

All the Lone Gunman saw was her nod, then they listened as she began her story.

I'd tried to lay down to see if the headache I was having would ease. I drifted off for a moment. I had a nightmare about Donnie Pfaster. He wasn't dead. He said that William died as a result of karma because I murdered him in cold blood. It felt so real … Maybe not what he said, but it felt like he was in the room, even though I knew he was dead. I was crying. I kept imagining William in his hospital bed, at his funeral …I had my med kit b/c I have some equipment that I like that I thought they may not have available to me at the Hershey center. My scalpel was in the bag. It felt as if I was watching a movie or even just making an incision on someone else. A corpse." She was steadier than she thought it would be still fighting against the lingering lethargy from the medicine. "I scratched the scalpel across my other arm without pressure. I hadn't eaten all day and I'd driven so far ... I collapsed. I fainted, I think. I guess that's when I hit my head. Somewhere in between, I called for help."

She paused.

"It's getting pretty dark in here," Frohike said, the sun had finished setting while Scully was filling them in on what happened to her before she dialed his number. "I'll turn on the light." Mulder watched as Scully held a hand to stop him.

"Please, don't … the headaches are still pretty brutal." She stood up and walked toward the guest room.

"So, it wasn't planned? It was?" Mulder said quietly, to no one in particular.

"Mulder," Frohike admonished. Scully stopped, but she didn't turn around.

"No. I … No." She stumbled over the words, answering a question she never could have imagined she'd be asked in her lifetime. When she returned, she sat a small spherical object in the floor between the men on the couch and she and Mulder. She pushed a button and the room glowed with stars. _William's nightlight._

"I gave him that," Byers said, "Willaim … when he was born."

"Yeah," she said, settling against Mulder again, "I was going to give it back to him."

They were all momentarily silenced.

You had time to think about prescribing medicine and time to give Frohike stipulations on coming to get you … but no time to just stop? Mulder cryptically picked up where he'd left off.

Scully sighed. "I umm, I wrote that when I got into the room, before I laid down. I left the patient name blank. I guess. I was going to call it in … I don't know it's all a jumble."

Mulder shook his head.

"You don't believe me?"

"Yes. I mean, I believe you, Scully. I just, how could I have not picked up on any of this …"

"Mulder, it happened so fast."

"It doesn't happen fast." He glanced down at their hands held together resting on his lap and then looked up to watch her face, her reaction. _Profiling._

"How did I get stitches?" She asked, pulling her hand from his.

"My sister is a nurse in Pennsylvania. You'd lost a lot of blood. She came in, gave you an IV of fluids, cleaned up your head wound, and sutured your arm." Byers answered her.

"So, in retrospect you almost ended two medical careers. You made the better call I guess. I wouldn't have manage to tie you up so neatly. You'll have a much nicer scar."

"Mulder, please …" She met his gaze. Embarrassed, ashamed, guilt-ridden … She didn't want to be talking about these things, not to him and not in front of others. She wanted grace from him. She pushed forward.

"The headache started while I was at the cemetery." Mulder startled, but tried to quickly cover. Scully felt him tremble against her arm. He was was frozen inside himself. It was Langly who spoke.

"You went to the cemetery? William's cemet – grave?"

"I couldn't see him when he was alive. I didn't think it would harm anyone … anymore ... to visit him there." She said, her voice catching on a small sob.

"Except, you." Mulder replied, grabbing her hand and holding it tight, even as she leaned away from him.

"I don't know why I thought I could – why I drove back to Pennsylvania. I needed to work. I doubted the possibility that I could hold it together – not enough to be working on STEM cells. The headache worsened as I drove. I took some over the counter pain relief. I was about an hour into the drive when I saw him in the mirror."

"Pfaster," Mulder asked, fatigue evidence in his voice … he was too tired to disapprove of her actions.

She shook her head. "Gerry Schnauz."

"Damn." He whispered. Horrified at the depths of closed doors that had been reopened. Scully rubbed his arm, as if to say how sorry she was over something she knew she wasn't supposed to feel sorry for.

"There were photos on my phone. That's why I … that's why I didn't want you to touch it."

"Of Schnauz?" Photos and Gerry Schnauz were not a hard connection to mistake.

"No, of William's grave." She tightened her grip on his hand.

"You saw Gerry in the mirror?" Frohike prodded.

"Yes. In the rear-view mirror. The image startled me, and I swerved off of the road. When the car stopped, I looked down and my hands were duct taped to the steering wheel. Just like, just like when you found me in the RV."

"Your wrists?" He watched her absent-mindedly pulling at the tape on her bandages. "Stop," he said for her ears only.

"Yeah, my wrists, but after a few seconds I realized it was all in my head … I was ..."

"Seeing things." Langly said, sympathetically.

"I didn't want him to know. They kept getting worse. I don't know if I believed it myself. I made it to the hotel. I had to pull over a few times. I kept getting these flashes and then the nightmare at the hotel ..."

"You didn't want me to know you were seeing things." Mulder whispered more to himself than anyone else in the room. "So, you called Frohike?" Mulder tried to release her hand, but she her grip on him was too strong. It surprised him. She never ceased to do that.

"Mulder, please understand … I wasn't in my right mind … I'm not in my right … I'm not fine." He took his free hand and covered his eyes. He didn't want to hear the rest of the story, and he wasn't even the one who'd lived it. "I remember waking up in the tub when the Lone Gunman found me. I saw blood … everywhere. Then, I remember retching on Byers' bathroom floor when I couldn't steady myself fast enough to make it any further. The nightmares, the flashbacks … the medicine … it's made reality a little fuzzy since we arrived here."

"Dana, we found you on the floor of the hotel. You were unconscious." Byers told her timidly. And in that moment, the other side of the story began.


	8. Chapter 8

**He Found Her In Pieces (Chapter Eight)**

 **The next chapter will have plenty of Maggie Scully. :) Thanks for all of you that are following, reading, and for the encouraging reviews. I hope you like this chapter. I think there will be some resolve coming soon. - Amanda**

* * *

"I convinced the woman at the desk that I was your brother and that you'd called after having a fight with your boyfriend. Said you'd had a bit too much too drink and I'd come from Scranton with a strong coffee and a listening ear. I told her I drank the first cup myself to stay awake on the drive and stopped at Starbucks for the Venti. Fortunately or unfortunately … the lady at the front desk had just broken up with her boyfriend the weekend before and she was still a little pliable on the subject. Asked if he'd cheated on you … Said she knew someone that could kick his ass. I assured her that if your boyfriend had cheated on you," Langly paused looking at Mulder directly, "That I knew a couple of other guys that would be helping me kick his ass. I knew if Mulder had cheated on you though, it'd be his lust for all things alien rather than a woman … alien woman? Either way, she gave me the key and I handed it off to Frohike. We followed a minute or so behind him. After all, you had requested Melvin and we didn't know if you might be angry. But you were more, unconscious ..."

Mulder shook his head, "Thanks, Ringo. Only a Ramones fan could tell a story as thorough or come up with such imaginative details … like that you three could kick my ass. You should've been a detective."

"Are you admitting to being Scully's boyfriend, Mulder?" Langly laughed. Mulder pulled Scully closer to him. Though he was attempting to lighten the mood, he also knew this part of the story. He'd heard the next part of the story and he knew it wasn't going to be easy for her to take in. He also knew, that he might have to be the one that put an end to this recounting if things were getting to tough for her. She wasn't a quitter even when putting a stop to something might be what was best for her. Of course, maybe he was wrong about that … he was almost sure that night that he'd returned home from his case in West Virginia that she'd left him for good. Maybe, she did know when to quit.

"Much more than that ..." They heard Scully say barely audible, yet, somehow in the silence she was the loudest thing to all of them – her captive audience. Mulder leaned over placing a kiss on the crown of her head. She was pulling at a piece of carpet on the floor. She cleared her throat and without looking up said simply, "Continue."

"When we finally reached Frohike, he was bent down calling your name and shaking you. I hurried over to check your neck for a pulse. While I was counting the steady beats, I looked down to see that you were laying in a pool of blood." Byers told her. Mulder felt Scully's hand sweaty in his, her breath quickening in anticipation of the unknown becoming known to her. He gently laid his free hand on her cheek and turned her head until they met eyes. She nodded once to answer his unspoken, _Are you okay?_ She continued to stare into his gaze.

"You were in Mulder's FBI shirt. I mean it looked too big to be yours." Mulder watched Scully's eyes widen, too big in her face. Was she embarrassed to be found in such a precarious situation in an FBI shirt? She'd taken her job there so seriously. Was she feeling for him because she'd been in his shirt when she'd slit her wrist? He knew she wouldn't have wanted him to feel hurt by her actions, to feel guilty. "I reached down to hold your hand while Byers and Frohike turned you over to access the situation and see where all the blood was coming from. I looked down when I felt something dripping. The cut was so deep, I could see your tiny wrist bone."

Mulder saw the look in her face and the tremble of her lips. Her body heaved. "Frohike, the trash can." Frohike tossed the plastic trash can that was sitting next to the end table in Mulder's direction. The Lone Gunman turned their heads as if to afford Scully some modicum of privacy. Mulder supported Scully with one arm while holding her hair back with the other. She hid her face down low in the garbage can that Mulder was pretty sure had only been there for looks. In fact, it still had the price tag on it. Byers pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Mulder, returning to his seat on the couch. "It's okay, Scully," He said, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. "Shhh … it's fine. You're safe." He handed her the handkerchief, rubbing her back. She took a sip of the water bottle that he'd been drinking from earlier. "Scully?" She didn't answer, and he didn't care anymore who was watching. Mulder picked her up and settled her onto his lap. He pulled her head down onto his shoulder as she curled into him. He put his arms around her drawn-up knees. Her face hidden somewhat in his embrace. Maybe it was too much for both of them right now. Then, he heard her as she whispered in his ear. "Byers," he said, "Keep … umm … just keep going."

"Langly had the same response, after – he only made it to the fake potted plant that the hotel had added for ambiance in the drab room. Then he held your other hand, Dana, and continued to talk loudly … trying to bring you back to us. I wrapped your other arm in a towel I grabbed from the bathroom. Then, we made the decision to move you."

"Maybe we should wait until later to tell you about this part, Scully. You must be tired." Frohike interrupted.

"The tub." Scully said, her voice hoarse.

"Yeah. You remember?" Frohike asked softly. She shook her head, but it was Mulder that spoke.

"No. Why didn't you tell me about this when I got here?" Mulder asked.

"We didn't realize … I felt so bad after we knew … I just wasn't ready, Mulder. It was painful for me to see her … I couldn't talk about it. You weren't ready to hear it." Mulder tensed at Frohike's warning.

"It's okay." He leaned his chin on Scully's head, rocking with her slightly. "It's the last part?"

"Yeah. It's the last part." He patted, Byers on the leg. "I got this, John," he said. "I think. The way Scully had fallen when she fainted made the upper part of her body land on the tiled floor and the lower part was across the carpet of the main room. So the way her arm placed, all the blood was in the bathroom. We thought it best not to leave a bloody hotel room or bed. So, the easiest way to contain everything and to clean her up was to put her in the tub."

"Oh, God." Mulder murmured.

"It was awkward trying to move her without being able to use her arm. Somehow by the time we got her in the tub … well, parts of her body that were unharmed had been covered in the blood from the floor. It was on her legs, her feet in spots, and on her face from where she'd hit her head on the table when she fainted. We lay her in the tub, and Byers called his sister, Caroline … the, the nurse." Frohike stopped to breathe. It was Mulder who was holding his breath, having already guessed what was coming next. "Scully?" He asked, trying to check in with her. She didn't answer. Frohike couldn't stop. "We lay her in the tub and I ran a little water on a wash cloth to clean some of the blood off her legs while we were waiting. Byers was applying pressure to her arm with the towel. The water must have hit her feet a bit, and she startled.

"No. No. No." Mulder whispered.

"Her eyes opened and she was … utterly terrified. I'd never seen such fear. I thought she was lucid. I tried to talk with her. _Dana_. She looked down at her body in the bathtub, covered in blood, and she couldn't move her arm. I don't think she knew Byers was holding it. I didn't think she had the energy in her to kick as hard as she … the pain shot through my jaw, and I didn't care because after that all I could pay attention to was the shrillness of her screaming. I've never heard a sound like that in my whole life. She scratched up Byers arm. The one that was holding her down and she tried to pull away, get out of the tub … away from … well, not us … but we were the ones that were there. It was slippery and that combined with the gravity from Byers holding her arm in place with the towel … She fell backward and … and she hit her head on the porcelain tub. It's … it's the reason that she has the knot on the back of her head. I think it's also why the headaches were so bad. It was the second time she hit her head that night. It was the most horrible sound … I'm so sorry, Mulder. We were so wrapped up in helping her … it wasn't until later when she had a nightmare and she said his name that we realized that she thought I was – "

"Donnie Pfaster." It hurt even to say his name. Mulder felt his stomach churn and the bile rise in his throat. He hated that bastard. He heard Scully speak, but he couldn't make out what she was saying muffled against his chest. He'd hoped that she had fallen asleep, and that she'd missed the last fifteen minutes. He wouldn't be that lucky. He strained to hear her.

"Mulder, Mulder," She said shaking his arm. "Here, take the gun. Take it away from me. Is he dead?"

"Scully, this isn't real. Pfaster is dead. He's been dead for a long time." Mulder was afraid of where she was. Secrets that they'd kept between each other – how much would she spill out in her delirium in front of the Gunman. "Don't do this … it's not real, Scully. Listen to my voice."

"I … I pulled the trigger?"

Mulder sighed. "Yeah, you did."

"My head hurts. There's glass all in my hair." She reached up to touch her head. "In my back, he threw me against the mirror … a few times. So hard. I crawled across the glass on my bare arms to get to the gun. I was in the closet. It was so dark. He left me in their while he went to light all the fucking candles in my bathroom. I couldn't see anything." Mulder kissed her cheek as she continued to shake – her cheek, her forehead, her chin.

"Langly, get the lights on! Scully, it's not dark. Come on. You're here with me, Frohike, Byers, Cutie … That was almost nine years ago."

"Mulder, I don't want him here. This is my home. Mine! Get him out of my damn house! Call the ambulance, the police, drag him out … not the police. I don't know what to do … just get him away from me!" She was yelling, but she wasn't fighting against him.

"He's gone, Scully. He is ..." Mulder pulled his arms from around her, and the bright light shined into her eyes. She fell against him sobbing.

"Not again," she said to him, as she pushed her face into his chest pulling at his sleeve. "Make it stop, Fox."

"I will. I'll make it stop. Whatever it takes. I promise." He held her as she cried.

"She thought you were him." He said, looking at Frohike his own eyes blurred by unshed tears.

"We didn't realize that she'd thought he was in the room before we got there. We didn't know about the nightmare and the flashbacks. I never would've – My jaw was swollen by the time Caroline fixed Scully's arm, gave her the fluids, a mild sedative, and helped us get her into the car. I talked to her the whole way back. Just the two of us in the back seat of the car. She said your name once. She didn't talk after that … well, only in her nightmares after we got her settled here."

"Wait," Mulder said, the former FBI agent in him prevalent. "She had a nightmare about … umm, him …" he said carefully as he looked down as Scully who was still crying silently, "She thought he was in the bathroom after she woke up and she called you." He thought about every nightmare waking or sleeping he'd seen Scully struggle through since he'd arrived at Byers' place. She was always trying to get her wrists unbound. He remembered the first time he'd found her after Pfaster had taken her. Bound with nylons at her hands and feet. He looked down at her bare feet and he saw them … two small superficial cuts on the insides of both her ankles. "She thought she was cutting the binds free. She was upset and the scalpel was sharp, and she was trying to get her arms free to call for help." He said. "Scully? Did you think you were tied up? Were you trying to get your arms and legs untied? To get away from him?"

"Yyyy … yes. I was seeing things."

"Okay. Okay, we can work with that." He said bringing her hands to his lips. _She might not have wanted to live in a world where her son was gone and all this terror was coming at her like a horror movie she couldn't escape from, but she didn't intentionally try to kill herself._ He thought. Though, he knew as long as these hallucinations and nightmares continued Scully was still in danger.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't remember clearly. I didn't want you to know … to know that I was hallucinating … that I was seeing things." She squeezed his hand in hers.

"Why?" He asked.

"I didn't want to be another casualty in your life. I didn't want to be an X-File." The Gunman had gravitated toward the kitchen.

"You are the love of my . . . the only thing that matters to me."

"One in five million," she said, fighting to keep her eyes open.

He hugged her to him. "Yes, whether you're seeing things or not. Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Mulder ran his hands through her hair. He knew she would be afraid to go to sleep … afraid of another nightmare. It wasn't the first time since they'd known each other that she'd lied about seeing things.

"I'm right here," he said and as he felt her breathing begin to even out, he brought his mouth close to her ear, "And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience." Mulder was pretty sure they both knew the whole damn book by heart.


	9. Chapter 9

He Found Her In Pieces (Chapter Nine)

Sorry this took so long. I also had to use a different writing program. Please forgive any formatting wackyness. I know I promised Mrs. Scully, but what I thought would be filler to lead into that became more. She'll be in the next one. Thanks for reading! - Amanda

* * *

Dana Scully couldn't remember a time in her life when she felt more exhausted, but the fight was now focused on keeping her eyes open. Her weighty eyelids were packed like suitcases, heavy with regrets, guilt, and fears … memories she'd stuffed away for so long. She still carried them with her on a journey that had now gone so much further off course than she ever imagined possible. It wasn't just direction that was lost, but the whole of her. She was in pieces. She was almost certain now that she wouldn't be able to mend on her own. She wasn't sure she could make the decisions, walk through the past, or voice the words that would help her become unshattered, especially if there were other people involved. She knew somewhere deep within that fighting so hard for control, to mask, or for perceived strength wasn't always winning. Yet, it seemed so much more dangerous to to risk herself in the light than it was to find comfort questioning in the dark for so many years. All she knew at this moment is she didn't want to sleep and all the energy she had left in her body, that was aching and trembling inside from anxiety, was being funneled toward the muscles that would keep her eyes open, even at half mast.

Normally, when things in her life were chaotic or there was a loss that she just couldn't face head on, Scully found stability and a hiding place in her work. Mulder knew her well and when she sat down at the desk in Byers' guestroom and asked him to pull the files of a few of the patients the hospital her to consider for STEM treatment from her briefcase he'd kept his reservations to himself. It didn't matter, though. Sometimes, she was almost certain she could hear him voice his thoughts without any audible words. _You're barely able to steady yourself on your feet, Scully. How are you going to concentrate on medical jargon? Scully, you're having a hard time differentiating between what's actually tangible and these haunting nightmares, even I would be a better doctor. Can you genuinely tell me if you're awake or dreaming right now? Scully, why don't you perform an autopsy too, while you're at it? For old times sake? Oh, right, I guess you'd need two healthy arms to accomplish that._ In actuality, all he'd asked was if she needed her glasses. He knew the answer. In fact, he could find the pocket where she kept them in her case with his eyes closed. If she was going to play doctor when her world was falling apart, then she supposed it was okay for him to play at polite conversation.

He laid the files down gently in front of her, stopping to rest his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs in slow circles on the back of her neck. She needed him not to touch her. She was afraid that the tears would start again. Scully's breath caught as he leaned down and placed a kiss on her head before taking her glasses out of his pocket and settling them where his lips had been moments before. He knew it wouldn't have been long before she pushed them back herself to rub at her eyes.

"You sure you want to do this?" He asked, before pulling a chair up to the end of the desk and choosing a book to read off the bookshelf. She simply nodded.

"Okay." He said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "Go for it." Mulder opened the book, turning past the title page and finally took his eyes off of her. If she was going to marathon a sleepless night, then so was he … they would stand guard against the demons that came with closed eyes together. Although, wasn't that what they'd always done? _Partners_.

Scully opened the first chart. The words on the first page seemed to be revolving a bit. She slammed her eyes shut for a few moments and the opened them again, pulling her glass down from her head and settling them over her eyes. She felt Mulder's gaze on her every few minutes. Scully kept reading what she could and tried with all her might to keep her mind off of the last few days. It wasn't long before they found a routine. She scanning the pages taking in a word here or there and Mulder stopping to watch her as if on beat. Scully met his eyes only once. She'd swayed severely in the chair and missed falling into the floor by catching herself with her elbow.

"Mmm." Scully responded softly as Mulder jumped up from his chair to help support and right her in the chair.

"Nod off for a second?" He asked knowing how tired she was and doubting that her stubbornness against sleep was going to prevail against her body's craving to rest. She shook her head, slowly. Swallowing against the knot in her throat.

"I suddenly became dizzy. I think it's passing." She put a hand up, squeezing the bridge of her nose.

"Scully?" Mulder asked.

"Yeah." She replied unable to say much more.

"Are you absolutely sure that I can't take you to the hospital just so they can do a scan and check out your head injury? Scully?"

"No. Thank you. I just - I'm sure it's a con … I don't think it's serious. Just can't shake this headache." Scully heard him sigh.

"Can I at least help you lay down? Get you some ice?" She felt the whisper as if it was tickling every hair on her arm. In actuality, he was bending next to her, his elbows on his knees, his head falling into his hands, and the words were drifting towards the floor.

"I want to try to work a little longer." She told him, the words empty even in her ears.

When he finally looked back up, she looked deeply into his hazel eyes. He'd slept … maybe only a few hours since he found her, she gathered. There were dark circles forming under his eyes, they were bloodshot, and his chin was beginning to stubble. He was hurting for her. She reached out placing a gentle hand on his cheek and watched as he leaned into it.

"Dana," he said, his eyes closed, and his words quiet, "You know the nightmares aren't just coming while you're asleep …"

"I know." She told him, willing her eyes to stay dry.

"Just let me hold you." He said, reaching for hand. Scully felt her chest tighten. She knew how it would feel to be in his arms - warmth, connection. She knew how her body responded to him in times of deep pain or fear. It relaxed, her breathing steadied, her flight response weakened. Her body trusted him deeply, even when her mind couldn't.

"No." She shrunk away from him. Scully needed to feel independent. She wanted to feel as if she could do something without help in this chaos that was surrounding her, even if it was looking at documents from work when she could retain very little from them. Her body though, it ached to give in to his request. It longed for the connection with this man she'd loved in some fashion most of her adult life. She watched as he sat back on the floor, leaning against the desk.

"Why won't you let me help you?" He was angry, but his voice wasn't harsh. She looked back down at the paperwork. She knew he was looking at her, but she didn't turn away. The need to find solace in his arms would be too great to support her desire to find some grounding. _I'm a medical doctor._ She was searching for identity. She would not let it be okay to let part of that identity be as Mulder's . . . Mulder's former co-worker, his partner, his lover, the mother of his only child? _No_. She couldn't go there, not yet.

Scully held her bandaged arm even tighter against her torso. It was then, she realized, he must of noticed that she hadn't moved it since she sat down at the desk. All her actions had been carried out with her right arm.

"How bad does it hurt, Scully?"

She paused. Still looking down at the file, "A lot." A small smirk, slowly crept onto her face. "I guess I should have added some pain medicine to that prescription …" She said, trying to let him know that there were still pieces of the woman he loved in tact.

"Took the words right out of my mouth. Still can, actually … I'd write them for Langly this time." Mulder replied.

"Why? Wasn't it Frohike that took a kick in the face?" She was trying to volley back, but there was residual pain underneath her words. She hadn't been prepared for the violence the Lone Gunman had described that came with her flashback. The nightmares were bad enough. Knowing that she she'd hurt herself once and that it could happen again, was terrifying. But, finding out that she'd injured others.

"Scully …"

"I didn't even get to apologize before they left." She said. He sat with her for about an hour in the floor of Byers' living room. The Lone Gunman had excused themselves. She vaguely remembered Byers saying he was going to stay at Frohike's so that she and Mulder could have some time alone. They'd done so much for her.

"I don't think he wanted your apology, Scully. None of them do. They just want you to stop hurting."

"If you're going to keep talking, I'm not going to be able to concentrate on these applications." She told him. She wasn't ready to face any of that tonight - not her feelings and not the steps that would have to be taken for the hurting to stop. So she tried to focus the blurring words into ones she could understand. "Anemic. Malaise. Adult-onset." Then, three words became sharper than any others on the page. "Chronic granulocytic leukemia." _No. No. No._ Scully felt her airways constricting. She couldn't pull her next breath. Weiss, Ramona. Twenty-three year old woman with leukemia whose oncologist was applying for entry into the STEM project. Her last hope. _**No.**_

It was if someone had tightened their hands around her throat. She gasped. She felt Mulder, but she couldn't open her eyes.

"Scully! What happened … Doesn't matter." He took her free hand and cupped it over her nose and mouth. "It's okay. Whatever it is … Even if it's not okay, I'm here. Breathe." He instructed her forcefully. "In. Out. In … You can do this."

Scully tried. The emotions were so great. _Oh, God_ , she thought. _The program … her new specialty ... What if it could've saved William?_ She pulled her hand down from her mouth and threw the file on the floor. _My son. My son. My son._

"Dana, can you hear me? You have to take some deep breaths. Listen to my voice. Please, do this for me." He was using her first name too much to be anything but scared. This she knew.

She pulled in as much air as possible. "Sick." Was all Scully could manage.

"Yes, you're sick right now, it's going to get better." She shook her head quickly. "The patient is sick?" She couldn't stop the tears from falling. She was going to be sick, and she couldn't force herself to run into the bathroom. The image of the bloody tub in Pennsylvania still too vivid.

She leaned away from him, and he thought she was falling. Mulder grabbed her, and then, she felt him tense as she threw up what little was left of the pizza in her stomach onto the floor. Scully could feel one of his hands holding her firm at her waist to keep her in the chair and the other was holding back her hair. He was trembling, she noticed, as she fought between gasping for air and dry heaving. She didn't protest as he lifted her up and lay her on her side on the bed. He turned to get something out of the bathroom and she held tight to his thumb, refusing to let go.

When he turned back to her, he bent down wiping her mouth with the towel that had fallen to the floor a couple of days before when he pulled her from the bath after she first told him of William's death. He heard no sound come from her, but he could make out the words she was mouthing.

"Please, help me."

* * *

It was only four hours until Mulder was to meet with Mrs. Scully, and he was holding her daughter tightly against his bare chest. He found an one ice pack and a bag of frozen tater tots in Byers' fridge and had been rotating them onto Scully's forehead to help with the migraine she'd been experiencing. She had developed a few scary headaches in the time he'd known her. Mostly, after stressful cases and situations. The worst he remembered witnessing was when they were on the run right before Melissa died. He didn't want this one to develop any further. Normally, he would turn off the lights if he was with her, cover her eyes with a cool washcloth, and put an icepack on her head. Last night, she'd only accepted a few over the counter pain killers and the ice. He'd taken off his jeans and tshirt and gotten into bed next to her. He realized his bag was still in his car, and he hadn't wanted to leave her alone even for the he wasn't even for the time it would take to retrieve it. Mulder wasn't sure if the normally suit-clad Byers owned any jogging pants. So, he went with what he had. At first, he'd given her a bit of space, knowing that aggravating her senses would do nothing to help the headache or even the heightened anxiety. He simply placed a kiss on her cheek and watched as she struggled still to keep her droopy eyes open. She'd insisted on keeping some soft light in the room - so William's nightlight was once again projecting stars around them. They began talking, and before long, he was holding her in his arms. He let her ramble because she thought it would help her stay awake. Her stubbornness had let her limp to the finish line as the sun had come up about 45 minutes ago.

"What's your favorite animal?" She whispered. "Oh. Never mind."

"I wasn't going to say that," he smiled, scratching her back lightly. "I like red pandas."

"They look like foxes, though." She said, her breath caressing his skin.

"Still, not technically a fox."

"What's your favorite girl movie?" He teased.

"Opposed to like a dick flick, Mulder?"

"Exactly."

"Ummm … I guess, Breakfast at Tiffany's." She said.

"That has the guy from the Beverly Hillbillies in it right?" She looked up at him, the tater tots falling from her head.

"You've seen it?" She asked, lifting her eyebrow as much as the ache would allow.

"Breakfast at Tiffany's or The Beverly Hillbillies?"

"Either? No, Breakfast at Tiffany's and not the porn version … Holly Go - In - Me or whatever it may be …" She heard him chuckle.

"No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?" He was surprised to feel her tense against him. "It's a classic."

Scully leaned back, and he helped her settle onto the pillow. Mulder watched as she held her arm up and gazed at the gauze.

"Fox?"

"Mmm." He said, resting his eyes for a moment.

"Do you think … do you think it - I did any irreparable damage to my wrist? The tendon, the nerves?"

Mulder knew what she was thinking. It had crossed his mind, too. She'd been locked in a hallucination and cut her arm deeply with a scalpel. To someone else, given that the wound would heal, it might be a minor nuisance. Some weird ache that came back when it rained, but Scully was a surgeon. She had to be exact with her hands. In truth, he wished she'd let a doctor look at it. But then, she hadn't known what was happening to her and a doctor might not have trusted the flashback story. He opened his eyes and looked at her. If for only a moment, her eyes were alert and awake. She was waiting on his opinion.

"As you know, I'm not a doctor. I think, like too many things right now, Scully, we'll have to wait and see. There's inflammation and the stitches and …" he tapped her head lightly.

She actually just nodded. "Maybe, I could have someone take a look at it."

"Am I hallucinating now?" He smiled at her, incredibly relieved that the statement had come out of her mouth.

"I don't know. Can you see the lochness monster?" Scully closed her eyes.

"No."

"Then you probably are," she said, her voice slurred. Mulder laughed.

"Scully?" He asked when her eyes hadn't reopened.

"Mmm?"

 _Still awake._ "I'm going to give you the Seroquel." She needed to sleep. He needed a nap before going to Maryland to meet Mrs. Scully and it was going to be a short one. Mulder waited for a response. After a few minutes, her heard her soft reply.

"Ok." When he tried to sit up, she put a hand on his chest. "Mulder? If I try to sleep, will you promise not to leave me?"

Mulder sighed. He planned on letting Byers sit with her when the Gunman got back and making the trip as quickly as possible. But he wouldn't break a promise to her, and maybe, it was time for her to have her Mom around.

"Yes, I promise. I'll stay with you if you try to sleep." She released him and tried to deepen her breaths as she knew he was preparing the syringe. _I will sleep,_ she thought, _Mulder, will be right here. I can do this. I can._

"Okay, Scully. I'll be as easy as an amateur can be. I'm sure I don't have your touch as a medical doctor." He laid the shot down on the bed beside her and helped her slowly roll onto her side. _Please don't let the side effects list include headache or upset stomach_ , he thought, knowing even if he checked them they would have no other choice. Mulder eased the pajama pants Scully was wearing slightly down from her hip and applied an alcohol wipe. He felt her draw in her breath.

"Deep breaths, Scully."

"Right." She whispered.

"Okay, on three," She felt the needle on two as she knew she would and then she felt the medicine go in. "All done." He told her as he gently rubbed the area and then placed a kiss there. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"I think I prefer your bedside manner, actually," she said. "I almost never kiss my patients to take away the sting."

Mulder smiled as he climbed back into the bed and settled her on his chest. "Even the beautiful ones, who like to argue with you, and make you eat too much health food?"

"Even." She placed a kiss on his lips.

"Scully? What's your favorite pseudonym from while we were on the run?" He knew the medicine would work fast. He wasn't even sure if she would be able to answer.

Mulder closed his eyes and tried to relax his body. His alarm was set for one hour. He placed it between the elastic at his waist and his skin, so he could feel it vibrate.

"Katherine Mm - Mulder," She stumbled over the words. He opened his eyes and glanced at her. She had fallen asleep.

"Me, too." He said, "I love that one, too."


End file.
